We're the Same
by Zane's Girl- Jo
Summary: In another reality, they could have been sisters... In this reality, they are. A new twist in my Change of Pace universe. What if Jo and Ziva had been sisters, the daughters of Mossad's most powerful director? Would they follow in each others' footsteps? Who would end up in Eureka, and who would end up at NCIS? Eventually McGiva, Jo/Zane.


**We're the Same **

**Rifiuto: No****n Miriena**

**Summary: In another reality, they could have been sisters... In this reality, they are. A new twist in my_ Change of Pace_ universe. What if Jo and Ziva had been sisters, the daughters of Mossad's most powerful director? Would they follow in each others' footsteps? Who would end up in Eureka, and who would end up at NCIS? Eventually McGiva, Jo/Zane. **

_Tel Aviv, Israel_

_2003_

"And again, harder this time, Zivaleh." The bag attempted to swing with each punch, but the person holding it steady refused to release her grip. "Remember, the jab is the can, cross is the spoon!"

"You have been spending too much time in America, Josefinaleh." The younger woman replied, striking again before stopping. "Can we work hand to hand combat now?" The older girl rolled her eyes, but pulled away, going to her bag and grabbing her gloves. She pulled them on, then pulled her ponytail up into a loose bun and made her way to the mat.

"No, if anyone has been spending too much time in other countries, it is Ari. Going to England and studying medicine? I only went to America to meet my stepfather and half-brothers." She said, dropping into a soft ready stance, hands up, waiting for her sister to join her. But the woman didn't, instead, she just watched her for several minutes, thinking.

"What were they like?"

"Who?" She asked, knowing where the conversation was heading and not wanting it to go there.

"Your stepfather and brothers." The other girl lowered her hands, straightening.

"They are fine. They have everything we... we did without. Including a mother who loved them." Ziva sighed. Her relationship with her older sister was complicated, to say the least. She had even gone so far as to create a family tree out of it- one she found quite simple until Jo added their half-siblings in America to it.

Though she, Jo, their younger sister Tali and older brother Ari all shared the same father- Eli David, Deputy Director of Mossad- Ari had a different mother than the girls. His mother, Dr. Hasmia Haswari, had been left by Eli when Ari was two; Rivka Harel, Jo and Ziva's mother, had then been studying in America, and had fallen in love with James Lupo, a young Army private taking college courses at the same school as her.

Their oldest son, Rico, had been born in seventy-one, followed by David in seventy-three and Luca in seventy-six, but they had not married. By seventy-nine, Rivka had returned to Israel to marry Eli, who had been an old childhood friend of hers. Josefina had been born in eighty, with Ziva and Talia following in eighty-two and eighty-six, respectively. Rivka had left Eli in ninety-three, when Jo was thirteen, returning to America and tracking James and their sons down; they married in December of ninety-three, but she'd been killed in a car crash in ninety-nine, when Jo turned nineteen.

"Look, I am just trying to understand_ Ima's_ other family a little better."

"Well I spent three weeks with them, and they treated me fine. Just like three half-brothers would treat the sister they never met." She shrugged. "They were all nice, Luca was fun to be around; he showed me how to... zipline?" Ziva narrowed her eyes, confused.

"What is zipline?" Jo shrugged.

"Flying through the air on a line... I still do not understand the point of it. Now, are we going to spar or not?" Sighing, Ziva fell into a soft ready stance, mirroring her sister. They spent the next several minutes, trading jabs and combat skills, going through various MMA techniques before finally giving up and leaving the gym. They walked back to the apartment they shared in Tel Aviv, the conversation going to Jo's trip to Jersey where their half-brothers had grown up, and where their step-father still lived. As soon as they entered the apartment, Ziva tossed her jacket on the side table, pulling her hair out of the bun. Jo had already moved into the kitchen and fixed a pot of tea; she headed back towards her bedroom, stopping by the mantel over their small electric fireplace. Her gaze landed on a photograph of them with their younger sister, Tali, the week before her death.

Tali had been killed in a Hamas suicide bombing in downtown Tel Aviv a year earlier; at sixteen, she'd been the sweetest and the best of them, as both Jo and Ziva were fond of saying. With her long dark curls and dark eyes, she looked exactly like her older sisters, though she had none of the cynicism Ziva and Jo had. Often, Tali would tell them both to lighten up and go run through the olive groves or lean out the windows and scream at the top of their lungs, just to know what it was like to feel alive and free. But in reality, none of them were free, not really. First Jo, and then Ziva, had gone into Mossad, becoming the best assassins the agency had turned out in recent years; Ari had also gone into Mossad, but with his doctoral training, he had soon pulled out, disappearing off the map. Tali, sweet, optimistic Tali, had never considered going into Mossad. She had deemed it out of line, and encouraged both her sisters to get out while they could and start their own lives, instead of following their father's plans. But neither had listened, and now, it was too late.

_"Do you know what it is like to really, truly feel alive, Josefinaleh?" She turned to her youngest sister, Tali's wide dark eyes drinking in everything around them as they sat in the shade of the olive trees in the grove near the house Jo and Ziva had both been born in. "To... to climb a tree..."_

_"Tali, get down!" But the girl ignored her, hoisting herself up until she was sitting back on the heavy branch, looking out over the grove._

_"And see the world, the future, at your feet! All around you! We can do anything!" She cried, spreading her arms wide, before moving to climb down. Jo and Ziva both reached up to help her down, and they tumbled, landing on the blanket they'd laid out. Tali landed on top of Jo and Ziva, giggling. "We can be explorers or writers, or dancers!" She cried, climbing to her feet and spinning around. Both Jo and Ziva sat up, Jo tightening the ponytail she normally wore her hair in, as Ziva tossed her bangs off her forehead. "Like when you were little. When you took dance classes, and I used to watch. We can do that! We can go to Paris and become Prima Ballerinas or America and become movie stars!" She grabbed her sisters' hands, pulling them to their feet. "We can live, like we want to!" _

The optimistic sixteen-year-old was dead a week later, her bright smile and cheerful disposition snuffed out, thanks to the violence within their country. An innocent victim in a world created by violence and death. And while her sisters had fallen into their father's plans, Tali hadn't. She'd looked to the future, finding a bright, beautiful piece of the world for her, while her sisters had only looked towards their deaths, and the darkness that would soon surround them.

Jo swallowed, glancing down at her tea before heading into her room and softly shutting the door. Ziva looked up from fixing her own cup. She silently moved into the living room, gaze going to the last photograph of Tali, and she sighed, sinking onto the sofa, wrapping her hands around the warm mug, becoming lost in her own memories of Tali, and the light that had been extinguished from their world with her death.


End file.
